


Beginning

by Sa_forever



Series: Writetober 2019 [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Pre-Episode: s01e01 Rose, Suicidal Thoughts, Whumptober 2019, trigger warning, writetober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 06:30:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20962022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sa_forever/pseuds/Sa_forever
Summary: Overwrought, depressed 9. Happens right before the episode "Rose".





	Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is a trigger warning for some suicidal ideation. Please do not read if this is going to trigger you.  
Prompts used:  
isolation  
childhood

His childhood had been a lot simpler. For all that he had to go through, he was almost happier then.

Now, he had to deal with the echoing silence across the universe, and rips in the space time continuum that were still healing.

On days like today, the weight of everything he has done almost tears him apart. His skin itches and every sound is like a nail on a chalkboard. The anguish that he feels should be enough to stop a heart, but he's not lucky or worthy enough to have that happen.

Really, the only way to cope at this point, is to find a dark, cool spot and hide under a blanket in a corner. The TARDIS, bless her, has only the faintest melody echoing around.

He should, by all rights, go to the Zero Room. It's tempting. The nothingness there is so tempting. It's also healing, and he doesn't deserve that.

There's an unused media room that even a long time companion would have a hard time finding.

He sets up a tempo where he knocks his leg into the coffee table that he blatantly hiding behind. Eventually it'll bruise and he's vindictively happy about that.

One hour? Five hours? He's not sure how long he stays cooped up there before his brain finally shuts down and he sleeps. He might have pushed his sleep cycle so he didn't have to bear the nightmares.

He wakes up on the floor, surrounded by blankets.

The TARDIS quietly hums at him, letting him know she has set the next destination. He tries to wave her off. His brain is almost quiet and he wants to just enjoy it some more, or quietly let go. The humming gets slightly more insistent. 2005 and the Nestene Consciousness she supplies.

Groaning as he gets off the floor, he wipes at his face. He'll have to find his boots and maybe a jacket first. Then he'll go take care of the Living Plastic. Maybe if he's lucky, it'll take him down with it.

**Author's Note:**

> I needed a couple days break from Writetober. That last fic was giving me all sorts of trouble. I know what happens... I just can't seem to express it in fic format.


End file.
